


The Quality Street Conundrum

by burgundy



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Drabble, Gen, ccr2 prompt fic, sweets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-04 00:23:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burgundy/pseuds/burgundy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur gets excited over the Purple Ones. Written for the prompt 'Purple' in the Cabin Crew Riot 2 prompt party on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Quality Street Conundrum

**Author's Note:**

> So I was told that some people don't know what Quality Street are? Essentially, Quality Street tins are massive tins of sweets that are sold in the UK around Christmas, mainly. They're sold at other times of the year but Christmas is the big time for them. More info here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quality_Street_(confectionery)

Sounds are important, particularly on an aircraft.

To Martin, the dull, pervading hum of G-ERTI’s engines was a constant, calming presence in the flight deck. All was well unless there was a clunk, or a beep, or the noise of one of the altimeters deciding that no, it didn’t want to work after all.

To Douglas, as long as the noise of Martin’s panicking didn’t exceed 85 decibels, (“Must you be so loud?” “DOUGLAS THE VARIOMETER IS BROKEN, WE H-HAVE TO LAND,”) he was content enough.

What was also a constant sound aboard G-ERTI was the unmistakable noise of Arthur being…well, Arthur.

“Guess what, chaps?” Arthur chirped, bouncing into the flight deck with a tray of tea and coffee, some of it slopping over the edge of the cups and making them slide around on the flimsy plastic tray.

“Oh God, not another of Arthur’s guessing games,” Martin groaned. He slumped in his chair, thudding his head weakly against the headrest.

Douglas frowned. “This is ‘is it bigger than a sheep?’ all over again, isn’t it?”

Handing the slightly slippy mugs over to the two pilots, Arthur continued with unabated enthusiasm. “No, nothing like that! You know how it’s less than three weeks until Christmas? Well, eighteen days to be exact.”

Douglas and Martin glanced at each other, worriedly. Arthur’s previous excitement about the festive season could be dangerous, as they found out – between being too helpful towards Mr Alyakhin’s clients at the yacht equivalent of the January sales, and his attempts to make Christmas pudding fire-free and flight-friendly (surprisingly difficult for Arthur), what piqued his interest this time could well seriously injure them, or at the very least stretch their nerves to breaking point.

Hesitantly, Martin attempted a reply. “Yyyyes, Arthur. You’ve been counting down the days on Carolyn’s wallchart for quite a while now.”

If it were even possible, Arthur’s face brightened even more; “Yes, I have!” he nodded, “you know that we sometimes get the tins of sweets in and all? We got Quality Street again! Brilliant or what?”

The matching looks of horror on Martin and Douglas’ faces said exactly what they thought of this ‘brilliant’ news.

“ _Fantastic_ , Arthur,” came Douglas’ sardonic mutter.

“You see? This means that I get to eat all the purple ones again! Oh, I love the purple ones. They’re like all the best bits of sweets in one bigger-than-normal sweet. Hazelnuts are brilliant anyway, but then caramel too!”

Douglas stared blankly into his coffee mug. _Not the purple Quality Street_ , he thought wearily. Arthur on peach schnapps was bad, but even the thought of Arthur eating as many purple Quality Street as he could was frankly terrifying.

Arthur was still going. “…I mean, the toffee pennies are great too, and the orange ones, and the fudge, and, really all of them. But the _purple ones_.”

Martin seemed to slump further in his seat, and Douglas continued to stare at his mug.

The sound of Arthur on so much sugar was the scariest sound of all.


End file.
